


A Little Rough and Tumble

by Rinzler



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Green Arrow - All Media Types, The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oliver, come on!” Barry hissed at him. “Move, please!”</p><p>“Okay, Barry,” Oliver said. “I’ll move.” There was something strange about his voice. It had deepened, darkened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Rough and Tumble

Sometime after two in the morning, Barry stirred awake in the darkness of his apartment. It was strange that he’d woken up at all.

The day- the whole week, to be honest- had been so chaotic and exhausting he’d fallen into bed last night with the intention of getting at least twenty hours of sleep. One metahuman prison break from Iron Heights had somehow become two, with Weather Wizard, Peek-A-Boo, and Rainbow Raider among the escaped prisoners. Barry had been so overwhelmed that Caitlin and Cisco had called in reinforcements all the way from Starling City. 

Halfway through yesterday, Oliver and Laurel had arrived in Central, with the rest of their team taking care of Starling while they were gone. With Laurel’s help, Rainbow Raider had been defeated and returned to Iron Heights fairly quickly. Oliver was still out in the city somewhere, doing his best to track down Weather Wizard. 

(Everyone had agreed that while Peek-A-Boo was still a threat, she wasn’t likely to cause the same amount of large-scale damage and havoc as the other two escaped metahumans. Tracking her down could wait.)

Barry had given Laurel a ride back to her hotel at ten thirty and returned home. Caitlin and Cisco closed down STAR Labs at the same time, and messaged Oliver to let him know that they would continue the search tomorrow. They all needed sleep.

Barry tore himself from his thoughts and blinked, eyes adjusting to the darkness, and realized what had woken him up was the sound of his apartment window opening. He rolled over and looked at the figure stepping through.

It was Oliver, still clad head-to-toe in green leather and more than a few bloodstains. Barry wrinkled his nose at the smell. Oh, gross. Now he was going to have to Febreeze the hell out of this place…more than he already did.

“What’re you doing here?” Barry whispered. “D’you need a ride to your apartment?”

“No,” Oliver said just as quietly, moving across the room to Barry’s dresser. Barry watched him lay his bow down carefully on top of it, then unstrap his quiver and lay it down too. Oliver  reached for the hood and pulled it back. Light from the streetlamps outside made it glint almost gold, dark shadows playing up the angles of his face.

Barry watched, entranced, even as he felt his eyes start to slip shut again. A few soft thuds sounded, like leather hitting the floor. The light from outside flickered and waned completely as Oliver closed the window again and drew the curtain.

Barry felt himself start to slip away- then, suddenly, jerk awake almost violently at the feel of Oliver climbing into bed behind him.

“What the heck?” He said in a whisper-shout, trying to twist around. “Oliver-”

“My hotel was too far.” Oliver said. He wrapped an arm around Barry’s waist and held him in place, preventing him from turning over. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“Are you sure? You know I could just run you there,” Barry tried to protest, but they both knew it was a lie. His whole body felt heavy and weighed down. Half-healed bruises covered half of Barry’s legs, and the ache in his left arm from a particularly violent impact was still bone-deep and painful. Carrying Laurel had already been too much.

“Sleep,” Oliver cut him off. “Now, Barry.” Then he settled into the bed and sighed, going still.

Barry didn’t know how he was supposed to. He stared at the wall in front of him, mind spinning in frantic circles.

He’d had feelings for Oliver that weren’t strictly platonic for months now. It wasn’t like he was ever going to act on them, but they were there all the same- dark, lewd, suggestive thoughts that would surface at the worst of times. Keeping them locked in their own private cage was a chore and a half. Now the star of those fantasies was in Barry’s apartment, in Barry’s bed, and here of his own free will. It was just them. Alone, together, in the middle of the night.

Barry let out a quiet breath. He couldn’t sleep like this. Every inch of his skin felt too hot, too tight, like the lightning inside of him was itching to get out. Oliver was a pressing, warm heat against his back, arm like a hot brand where it curled over Barry’s waist and held him steady. Oliver’s breathing was perfectly calm and steady. He’d already fallen asleep.

Oliver shifted on the bed behind him. Barry was pulled closer as Oliver hooked his chin over Barry’s shoulder, so that his head was tucked into Barry’s neck. Oliver breathed out and Barry bit his lip, fighting back a gasp at the way it felt against his overheated skin.

Barry wondered if he could at least move farther away from Oliver on the bed, if not leave it altogether and sleep on the couch instead. He held his breath and wriggled experimentally.

Oliver only held him tighter. Barry let out a quiet groan and stopped moving. Great. He couldn’t fall asleep, and he couldn’t get out of Oliver’s grasp to move someplace else. He wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight. Time to settle in for a night of torture and a regretful morning-after.

“You’re not sleeping,” Oliver said from behind him. Barry froze in shock.

“You’re awake?” He asked, his voice sounding strangled. “Uh, okay, would you mind-” he pulled at Oliver’s arm around his waist.

“Hmmm,” Oliver made a noise of consideration. “No.” He didn’t move.

“Oliver, come on!” Barry hissed at him. “Move, please!”

“Okay, Barry,” Oliver said. “I’ll move.” There was something strange about his voice. It had deepened, darkened.

He gripped the fabric of Barry’s shirt in his hand and pulled his arm upward, tugging Barry’s shirt along with him. Cool air breezed over Barry’s skin and he shivered.

“Oliver? That’s not funny. It’s cold in here,” he protested, then gasped. Oliver had let go of the shirt and had slid his hand underneath the fabric instead. His palm was pressed against the center of Barry’s chest, fingertips teasing at his collarbone.

“O- Oliver?” Barry said again. He didn’t understand. What was going on?

Oliver shifted again, slipping his other arm around Barry’s waist from the other side, moving it up his chest. Barry tried to squirm away and only pressed himself closer to Oliver’s body. Oliver groaned quietly.

“You feel so good like this,” he said, and Barry froze again in shock. “So good, Barry.”

“Oliver, what-” Barry said, voice breaking halfway through his sentence. He felt himself start to blush, the fantasies that had been banging at their cage now slipping freely through the bars. He tried to pull himself up, but his arms felt shaky and weak, and all he could do was grip the pillow tightly.

“You’re so beautiful,” Oliver marveled, tracing his hands down Barry’s sides and up again, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Barry shivered at the feeling, feeling his blush rise to the tips of his ears. “So beautiful, Barry, and you don’t even know it. You have no idea what you look like. No idea what you do to me,” Oliver said. He turned his head and pressed a kiss against Barry’s neck.

Barry gasped and jerked. Oliver’s words kept sending frissons of heat through him, arousal pooling in his gut. He felt his cock swell between his legs, hardening every time Oliver touched him.

“What- what do I do to you?” Barry asked. He felt a mix of terrified and turned on, so hopelessly aroused but half-convinced that this was just another dream.

Oliver laughed quietly and the sound vibrated through their bodies. Then he ground his cock against Barry’s ass.

“This,” Oliver said. “This and so many other things. Would you like me to show you, Barry?”

Barry squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard. Maybe this was real, maybe it was a dream. Barry didn’t care. He couldn’t care anymore. He had to do this.

“Please,” he said, voice little more than a faint exhale.

Oliver slid one of his legs between Barry’s, forcing him to spread his thighs. Barry arched his back and whimpered at the feel of it. Oliver dropped one of his hands to Barry’s waistband and pulled his briefs off, then traced a hand down his length. Oliver ‘hmm’d happily when his fingers touched the head of Barry’s cock.

Barry squirmed a little at the feeling of Oliver’s fingers. With anyone else he’d be embarrassed about seeming too eager for it, but this was Oliver. They trusted each other implicitly. Barry wasn’t going to try and hide how much he wanted this, and besides, Oliver had probably already figured it out.

“Oliver, come on,” Barry whined. “Touch me, please!”

“We need to work on your patience,” Oliver said. He removed his hand, pulling it around to rest on Barry’s lower back. He moved his hand down a little more, spreading Barry’s ass and thrusting forward. Barry gasped at the feeling of Oliver’s cock nestled between his ass cheeks and Oliver’s thigh pushing his legs apart.

“This still good?” Oliver asked. Barry bit his lip and ground his hips back, pushing himself closer. Oliver grunted as the movement caused his cock to move and slide between Barry’s thighs, fingers digging into Barry’s hips hard enough to bruise.

Barry’s hands clawed at the pillow and he moaned. “Oh- oh my god, Oliver,” he said breathlessly. “So good. So, so good.” The heat between his legs was rising, every touch of Oliver’s skin against his building his arousal and anticipation.

Oliver kissed his neck again. “How do you feel about marks?” He asked.

“I heal from everything,” Barry reminded him. “So, uh, be as rough as you want?”

“That’s a dangerous offer, Barry,” Oliver purred, and bit down hard.

Barry screamed, back arching and hips thrusting back. The sharp shock of pain blazed through his nerves like a wildfire, and he felt his cock jerk and spurt precum at the feeling. He dropped his head against the pillow, baring more of his neck as Oliver began to suck and nip relentlessly.

“Ah! Fuck, oh god,” Barry managed.

“Not God, just Oliver,” Oliver said. Barry gasped out a laugh.

“You think you’re…so funny…don’t you?” He asked, and ground his hips down. He squeezed his legs closer at the same time, feeling Oliver’s cock throb where it rested between his thighs. Oliver swore and bit him again, just to the left of his spine. “Fuck! Oh, Oliver!”

“Now you get it,” Oliver said. “The only name you’ll be screaming in bed is mine.”

“Hmm, any preferences?” Barry asked. “You’ve got- ah! a lot of them.”

Oliver paused. “What?”

“Well,” Barry said, “there’s Oliver, and Ollie, and-” he affected the most breathless, fucked-out tone he could manage- “oh, Mr. Queen!”

Oliver groaned, hands flexing where they gripped Barry’s waist. “Barry…”

“I could scream Green Arrow, if you like,” Barry offered. “Or is that too long? Just Arrow?” He could feel his restraint slipping away the longer they lay here, words being pulled out of him that he’d normally never say. Arousal was running rampant all over his morals, dark words from darker fantasies slipping to the surface.

“Do we need to have a talk about your kinks?” Oliver asked. He reached his left hand around their bodies, wrapped it around Barry’s cock, and began pumping it roughly. “Or are you always this much of a tease?”

Barry gasped. Oliver’s hand on his cock felt so different from from his own. It was larger, broader, and the calluses on his fingers were so rough. Oliver swiped his thumb over the head of Barry’s cock and he practically mewled at the way it caught and dragged.

“Oh, Oliver, please-” Barry begged, forgetting to snark back.

“Do you want to come, Barry?” Oliver asked him, voice far too composed.

“Please,” Barry moaned shamelessly, hips thrusting back uncontrollably as Oliver twisted his wrist at the same time his other hand pinched one of Barry’s nipples. Heat flared in his gut and he felt static crackle across his skin, a telltale sign of what was about to happen. “Oliver, I’m so close- please, oh! Please-”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Oliver reassured him. “Let go, Barry. Come for me.”

Barry’s orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave, sudden and chaotic and beyond control. He tried to scream, throat working, but all he could manage was a breathy, drawn-out moan. Oliver held his hips steady, fingernails digging deep enough to break the skin. Tiny trickles of blood mixed with spurts of come,  smearing across Barry’s stomach and dripping between his thighs.

For a moment it was all Barry could do to remember to breathe. His whole body felt wrung out and sore, pain from the fights starting to dull, being replaced with a better sort of ache.

He blinked stars out of his vision just in time to register being turned onto his back. Oliver had moved from lying behind Barry and was climbing on top of him. Oliver straddled him and pulled down his briefs, wrapping a hand around his cock and starting to jerk himself off as he looked directly at Barry.

“I’m going to come, and when I do, it will be on your face,” Oliver said. “Okay, Barry?”

Barry blinked. “Okay,” he managed.

Oliver’s cock was flushed a deep red, thicker than Barry had thought he was. Slick precum dripped in strands from his fingers, the obscene action framed perfectly by the cut of Oliver’s hips and muscled thighs. He was a solid weight on top of Barry, heavy and real and so very, very intense. Suddenly it was hard to breathe again.

“You want me come all over your pretty lips?” Oliver asked, voice a low growl, stretching out his other hand to run his thumb across Barry’s lower lip.

“Please,” Barry agreed less than a heartbeat later, moving his hands and sliding them up the insides of Oliver’s thighs. He bit his lip and vibrated them a little, pushing almost close enough to touch Oliver’s cock. Oliver swore and pumped himself harder.

“Fuck, Barry- it’s unbelievable what you do to me- I want you-”

“You can have me, Oliver,” Barry murmured in return. “Please, please come on me- I want to taste you-”

Oliver his hand back and grabbed Barry’s hair, pulling it hard, strands twisting around his fingers. Barry let his head be pulled back and whimpered at the sharp pain. He was starting to figure out that Oliver must really like pulling his hair. That was okay. He really liked having his hair pulled.

“Ollie,” Barry moaned, and that was enough.

Hot spurts of come landed on his face, splashing across his jaw and dripping into his mouth. Barry wrinkled his nose at the salty taste but licked at the drops anyway, lying there completely pliant. A few streaks splattered down his cheekbone, getting into his hair.

Between the mess on his chest and between his legs and now on his face, Barry felt covered in come. He shuddered delightedly as Oliver slumped above him, breathing heavy as he rode out the last of the aftershocks.

“Oh my god,” Barry said. “We just- that was-”

He was cut off by a pair of lips against his own. Oliver kissed him roughly, pushing his head into the mattress with the force of it, his stubble scratching against Barry’s chin and cheeks. Barry sighed at the feeling, parting his lips and letting Oliver lick into his mouth, tasting himself on Barry’s tongue.

When they finally parted for air, Oliver rolled off of him and flopped down at Barry’s side. The still-dark room smelled like sweat and sex, completely overpowering the smell of blood that Oliver had dragged in, and was filled with the sound of their panting breaths.

“Oh… my god,” Barry said again, yawning halfway through. Oliver laughed.

“Tired, Barry?” He said smugly, wrapping an arm around Barry’s chest and pulling him close until they were cuddling again.

“It’s the middle of the night!” Barry protested.

“And here I thought it was the mindblowing sex,” Oliver mused. Barry snorted.

“I have no refractory period and can vibrate my hands and mouth, Ollie. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You can what?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @k-dayun's olivarry art on tumblr.


End file.
